


Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

by anr



Category: Universal Soldier
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-04 10:56:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anr/pseuds/anr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She likes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

**Author's Note:**

> This completely ignores all of the sequels.
> 
> Prompt: ice

She likes the winters here, likes the way the snow blankets the yard outside and settles around the sides of the house in slow drifts. The trees and gables drip ice; the sun becomes nothing more than a muted glow on the horizon.

She likes it _here_ , like this. Likes to stand at the window and press her fingers on the frosted glass edges, likes to watch the world disappear into a fall of white. Likes the quiet, the stillness, the peace.

The cold.

"Ronnie," he says, behind her, his hands warm on her hips, his cock slowly stroking into her as she leans over the window seat, fingers tight on the sill, "come?"

She comes.

  


* * *

  


She touched him long before she ever held him, kissed him long before she ever loved him. Now, as her heartbeat slows, and his hold on her eases, as she turns to face him, she does all four.

His thermal monitor is starting to glow when she pulls back and checks, and she brushes her fingers over it.

"It is okay," he says, leaning down and kissing her again. "I promise."

"You're warm," she says.

"I'll cool." He takes her hand in his and raises it to his mouth. His lips press on the inside of her wrist, teeth nipping at her pulse. When she breathes out sharply, he sucks at the skin until she does it again.

"Luc," she protests, but she is smiling as she says it, and she can feel a smile of his own against her skin.

Then her hand is falling and he's swinging her up into his arms, quick and unexpected. She laughs. "Put me down!"

Her arms link around his neck as he shifts her, his strength dizzying. In the space of a heartbeat, it seems, she has gone from being cradled to being hugged, her legs hooking instinctively around his waist when he makes no attempt to let her feet touch the ground. She slaps at the back of his shoulder, still laughing, and she's going to scold him, she is (he can't keep using his strength on her, he can't, not when strength means energy and energy means heat and he's already so _warm_ ) when he grips her tight around her hips and pulls her down, quick and sharp.

His cock slides into her, hard again already, and her laughter chokes in her throat.

 _Oh god_ , she thinks. She is still slick from before, still swollen and sensitive, and the feel of him inside of her again so soon is almost overwhelming. She thinks, _damn him and his stupidly wonderful refresh rate_. Her left hand makes a fist on his shoulder.

His grip tightens briefly, lifting her up and pulling her back down. She moans.

"Too soon," she manages, knows (he needs time to _cool_ ), "Luc, we _can't_ \--"

He takes two steps back and, as he drops down onto the window seat, her weight settles her fully onto him, his cock pushing in hard and deep. He groans.

Her ankles are still locked behind him and she starts to move, thinking to shift to her knees and ride him slow and easy, when he adjusts his grip on her waist and lifts her again. Her breathing stutters and he eases her back down.

" _Luc_ ," she breathes out.

He sets an aching pace, a gentle lift and fall that has her feeling every inch of his cock as he slides in and out of her sex. Her fingers spread across the hot, damp skin at his nape, nails digging in -- _warm_ , she thinks, _he's too warm_ \-- but she lets him move her as he wants, as he needs. His mouth is open on her shoulder, teeth and lips pulling her skin, and she arches in his hands, leaning back as his kisses brush her collarbone and then lower.

 _So hot_. His skin is sweaty, slippery against hers, his mouth a brand on her breasts. There's an ache deep inside, where his cock is still pushing and pulling into her, his strokes getting sharper as her muscles start to tremble, but it's his skin that she feels most, that she focuses on. _Too hot_.

Leaning up, she tugs on the short strands of his hair and tips his head back, slanting her mouth over his and kissing him hard and fast. Behind his back, her hand stretches for the window latch and flicks it up, pushing on the glass until it slides open.

A wind slips into the room immediately, fresh and icy, a flurry of snowflakes following.

It's his back to the weather, and his reaction to the sudden chill down his spine is vibrant. Gripping her waist hard enough to bruise, he switches to fast, shallow strokes, pulling her on and off his body until it's not just her sex that's thrumming, it's her entire body, her mouth gasping helplessly against his as he takes her. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, her palms around his skull, and holds on tight.

He comes first, comes hard, his hands holding her hips down and still as his cock throbs inside of her, but then his right hand is moving, his fingers stealing between their bodies, and he's fingering her clit and pulling her after him.

She comes on his cock, from his fingers, as she kisses him, as he holds her, as they pant in the rapidly cooling air of their bedroom.

"Ronnie," he murmurs against her mouth.

She closes her eyes and breathes him in.

  


* * *

  


Opening the window helped, she knows, but he still needs to cool himself further. As he stands under a shower cold enough to give her hypothermia, she brushes her teeth and tells him about her latest story, a medical cover-up back in LA.

"That's good, no?" he says, sticking his head around the fall of the shower curtain. "You can see your old friends?"

Seeing his reflection in the mirror, she points behind her. "Colder," she orders, stern until he rolls his eyes and disappears back behind the curtain. "Yeah," she continues, shrugging. "I guess." She's never regretted following him north when he realised Louisiana was too humid for him to stay (she followed him east easily enough, after all), and she's definitely never regretted turning freelance after breaking the UniSol story (being able to write her own ticket, to investigate any story she likes, whenever and wherever she likes, was always, _always_ the dream). "Anyway, I can probably catch the noon flight tomorrow and be back by Thursday."

The shower cuts out, and she considers protesting when he pushes the curtain aside and steps onto the bathmat behind her, but she can see the normal reading on his thermal indicator and she knows he'll only ignore her.

"Just make sure you are back by the weekend, yes?"

She smirks. "Scared?"

As he dries off, he gives her that same little innocent 'who me?' expression he once gave her in a semi-destroyed diner. "Of your brothers? No."

"Uh huh." Turning and leaning past him, she reaches into the shower and turns it on again, this time with hot water.

"Of your mother, however --" He slides his arms around her waist and presses up against her. A shudder runs through him, deliberate and over-dramatic. " _Terrified_."

She laughs, low and soft, and then startles, a little, when his hand shifts up to pinch her nipple. Her hips push back against his automatically.

"Seriously?" she asks, suddenly breathless. "Again?"

He lifts her into the shower and follows quickly, crowding her against the steamy tiles and kissing a dozen promises to play outside in the snow, after, across her collarbone, "... if you like?"

 _This man_. Laughing, she shakes her wet hair out of her eyes and loops her arms around his shoulders.

"I like," she agrees against his mouth, and turns the water back to cool.

  


* * *

The End

**Author's Note:**

> ORIGINAL URL: <http://anr.livejournal.com/494162.html>


End file.
